


The Storm And What Came After

by calysto1395



Category: Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, Codex Entries, F/M, Letters, Oblivious Hawke, Purple Hawke, Unreliable Narrator
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-22
Updated: 2017-07-22
Packaged: 2018-12-05 10:59:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11576706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/calysto1395/pseuds/calysto1395
Summary: There are many fragments of stories and history shattered around Thedas. To find them all would be impossible.





	The Storm And What Came After

**Author's Note:**

  * For [alamorn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/alamorn/gifts).



> I was very inspired by your prompt! Most of this was written in a frenzy right after assignments were send out. I hope you enjoy!

 

_An excerpt of the journal of Cassandra Pentaghast, Seeker of the Chantry, 9:41 Dragon, Inquisition days_

 

Meeting the Champion of Kirkwall was nothing like I had imagined. Perhaps because _she_ is nothing like I had imagined. In Varric’s tales he described an honourable woman with a good heart, succeeding despite the odds because of her skill and support of her loyal companions.

The thought that the woman I met today could invoke any kind of loyalty in anyone leaves me at a loss. She is brash and rude, invaded Skyhold and left with her pockets full of our rations without so much as a goodbye or expression of gratitude.

The stories about her led me to admire her spirit. The reality is, as usual, more disappointing.

 

* * *

 

_An excerpt of the journal of Cassandra Pentaghast, Seeker of the Chantry, 9:41 Dragon, Inquisition days_

 

With Hawke visiting again, I made an effort to be forthcoming. She is doing a great service to the Inquisition and even though I am convinced she is doing it for selfish reasons, she still deserves our respect. At the least. Today at dinner I complimented her most famous battle. Her fight against the Arishok had been a thing of legends even before Varric wrote about it. It had been what I admired most about her during my search.

But when I mentioned her brave battle she had been puzzled and replied with a sarcastic remark "Oh, I was real brave, alright" before mocking me with laughter. I am left confused.

Has Varric deceived me so fully that I believe his weakest lies? Of course Hawke couldn't have beaten an Arishok honourably by herself. Surely the events that conspired must be vastly different from those I have read and heard about. Just another thing that separates the real Champion from the fictional one that Varric birthed from the tip of his feather. Hawke will to stay a few days longer before she meets her Warden friend in the Western Approach and I have no desire to seek her out once more.

 

* * *

 

_An unsent draft of a Ben-Hassrath report, written by the Iron Bull, 9:41 Dragon_

 

The Champion of Kirkwall made an appearance. She is supporting the Inquisition. Offered no information about the whereabouts of the Thief or the stolen goods, though I suspect she truly doesn't know. That, or she is a better liar than I. Newest developments lead me to believe her relationship with author Varric Tethras runs deeper than friendship. Something to consider, should we wish to seek her out in the future.

 

* * *

 

_An excerpt of the Journal of Cassandra Pentaghast, Seeker of the Chantry, 9:41 Dragon, Victory March from Adamant to Skyhold_

 

It appears Hawke was more noble than my first impression of her led me to believe. I can now see how Varric could write so favourable about her. Sacrificing herself for our cause-

The Inquisitor told us her last words were a farewell to Varric. I had not thought him capable of crying before this day.

 

* * *

 

_Excerpt of a journal, lost in the Fade_

 

I'm not sure why I'm feeling the need to write at this moment. It's something more comforting that walking around endless green wastes, I suppose.

Can't be long until it's over now. The demons did a number on me; I imagine they enjoyed the opportunity for payback.

I hope none of them take over my body and come back to hunt Thedas. I've done enough to the world.

Thought about a final resting place for my soon to be corpse. There was a mirror a while back. Reminded me of home. Kirkwall. Can't believe I still call it that. Feels like something else should get that title.

Home is where the heart is, father used to say.

I guess mine should have been Skyhold then. How cheesy.

 

* * *

 

_An old letter hidden in the abandoned ruins of Lothering, addressed to Varric Tethras, unearthed and delivered by an antivan assassin_

 

Varric,

If you’re reading this, then I’m not around to stop you. I probably did something stupid, or got kidnapped or murdered or arrested. I'm sure it made for a great story.

We left little unspoken during the years, so I don't want to torture you with the anticipation of whatever ground shattering secret you think I could only reveal to you after my passing.

Unless you skipped right to the end, which I know you do with books. Heathen. Sometimes the end is worth the wait.

Right, the point. I had a point to this.

You know those quaint things people have sometimes? Feelings? Well, as it turns out I have them. Try not to laugh- but I have them for you. Have for a long time now.

I realise my timing is impeccable, as this way you don't even have to make up a response or feel bad about the whole thing. I've made peace with it a while ago. I know there is Bianca, whoever or wherever she might be. I just needed to get it off my chest in some way. And this way I avoid the confrontation and the pitying looks and the awkward silence.

Anyway, that was all. No juicy secrets, unless you want to know that Carver once ate what Bethany told him was a rare cheese but was in fact just weirdly coloured mud.

Read this knowing you are less one headache. I can't possibly get into trouble after death right? No need to worry about me anymore.

Have a good life, you deserve it.

Hawke

 

* * *

 

_An encoded message from the Alienage in Kirkwall, delivered by a merchant father and son in Orlais_

 

Dear Friend,

The Birds are flying again in Kirkwall. I had not believed it possible after the storm, but one flew right into my window. It broke it's wing, but I hope that it will soon sing again. I've attached one of the feathers I've found, most curious, is it not?

 

_The only signature is a delicate drawing of a flower. Attached to the letter is a lock of black hair, tied together with a strip of red fabric_

 

* * *

 

_An encoded message from the Skyhold fortress, given to a pirate at the Stormcoast_

 

Dear Friend,

Tell the birds to sing loud, so that their song might carry to our mountains. Let me know if the weather changes, so I can pray for sunshine.

 

_Attached are 10 sovereigns and a letter, sealed with the Tethras signet and bearing the crude drawing of a feather._

 

* * *

 

_A letter delivered by a traveller_

 

Varric,

I won't bother with whatever code you have come up with now. Let the nosy message boy who reads this know that I survived the Fade. Burn all the heroes prose you started writing about my tragic demise.

I am a bit fuzzy on the exact series of events, but it involved some of Merrill's decor and a lot of wacky magic. Nothing of your interest, so I'll spare you the details that I still recall.

My adventure left me weary, however, and just writing these few words already tires me; I'm afraid my visit will have to wait.

Stay alive,

Hawke

 

_Underneath the signature the same image of a feather, drawn even worse_

 

* * *

 

_A letter exchanged on Hightown Market_

 

Hawke,

None of my messenger's would ever read what I have give them to deliver, I pay them far too well. It was the Nightingale I wanted to challenge.

I'm relieved to hear you're well. I've informed your kin, so expect word from them.

Also, I'll have you know that I have already written all the heroes prose within me. A little book called "The Champion of Kirkwall". You should read it sometime.

With the way things are here, I won't be able to visit soon either. Our mutual friend proves to be even more trouble than we had anticipated.

The Inquisition was happy to hear about your whereabouts, Maker knew everyone was feeling guilty. Only the Seeker's reaction was strange, I believe she may be plotting to kill me.

Avenge me, if she does, would you?  

Varric

 

_Attached to the letter is a minted first edition copy of 'The Champion of Kirkwall'. Written on the inside of the cover is Varric Tethras' signature and the words "For my biggest fan"_

 

* * *

 

_Notes scribbled into the first act of “The Tale of the Champion”, some lines completely stroked out, others underlined_

 

That didn’t happen.

 

Fenris almost slit my throat when we met, left that out.

 

I know I looked terrible that day, yet I am described as “majestic”. How drunk was he when he wrote this.

 

We were crawling through the Bone Pit all week and no mention of my body odor he was complaining about the entire time.

 

Poor Ketojan.

 

ANOTHER paragraph about how much he hated Gamlen’s house. This is excessive.

 

* * *

 

_A letter attached to a bottle of liquor, received in Herald’s Rest. The label reads 'The Hanged Man's Finest'_

 

Varric,

Twist my arm while I am helpless to stop you. As I am still ordered to bed rest by my self appointed master Merrill, I have finally begun to read your work but I can only bear it one chapter at a time. Had I known how much of it was fiction, I might have stopped it from ever existing.

Describing my eyes with the "colour of topaz"? Really? That's a little romantic for you, isn't it? I know that reading it almost made me gag. Also I am quite sure I remember our meeting differently than you do.

Also, thanks to you I got quite an angry worded letter from Weisshaupt. Not sure if I am grateful for it yet, but at least I know he's still alive.

Hawke

 

* * *

 

_A torn out page of Varric Tethras journal. 9:31 Dragon - The exact date is written in faded ink and illegible_

 

Today marks the day that I've finally met the infamous Hawke. I decided to hire one of my contacts to rob her purse. People like her always need a reason to trust, but she is not what I imagined. By the time I caught up to her and the thief, she already had him by the throat. She is a haggard and frail looking thing, missing meals just like anyone in Lowtown. My arrival distracted her enough that my thief could break free, and for me to play my role.

Before I could give her back her money she snatched it out of my hands, hard enough that her blunt nails scratched my skin. There is little that sets her apart from an animal.

As her brother caught up to us, looking everything but haggard and I understand her a little better. Family above everything. Makes it easier to sweeten the pot for her. What Lowtown thug doesn't want the kind of fortune our expedition can give them? And lucky this particular thug brings the skills to actually earn said fortune.

She listened to my proposal only after I offered to discuss it over dinner, which she devoured in little time as someone were to take it from her again. The bread we were supposed to share at the table Hawke put into her own pack without shame, saving it for later. I don't mind. Let her have all the bread she wants, I just need her coin and skill.

 

* * *

 

_Notes scribbled into the second act of “The Tale of the Champion”,  several notes are simply the word BULLSHIT_

 

Varric needs to stop describing my behind in such graphic detail, people will get the wrong idea.

 

Somehow managed to make Aveline look less pathetic while courting Donnic.

 

I hate the Fade.

 

Anders never flirted with me.

 

According to this everyone always looked at my ass.

 

Varric doesn’t know how to describe surroundings.

 

I hate Corypheus.

 

He must have been really pissed at Isabella when he wrote this.

 

* * *

 

_A small note passed along in Val Royeux, the only signature is a carefully drawn feather_

 

Friend,

Thanks for mother.

 

* * *

 

_Excerpt of Varric Tethras' personal journal, 9:37 Dragon, Notes on "The Champion of Kirkwall"_

 

I have to write about it and yet I just can't find the words. It was so long ago, yet thinking about it continues to make me sick. Leandra deserved a better ending, and now would be the time to give it to her. How to make the tragic look appealing, a writer’s easiest trick. Yet I can't ignore what I saw. I hadn't ever fully understood the fear people have of magic, now I do. To think Daisy could be capable of something like this with the knowledge she has-

I thought I could look back at this event with a more neutral eye.

In my memory I don't recognize Hawke at all. How she had gutted that murderer, how he had screamed and how little she had cared. Weirdly enough that had been the least terrifying thing that night. In retrospect, I almost want to join her in serving justice to that vile _asshole_. Both impossible and possible right now. I can decide his punishment a hundred times over. Would people still cheer for Hawke though, if they were shown what I have seen. With the Chantry spewing hate and propaganda, it’s probably not the best idea. Slaughtering a mage, no matter the reasons, won't win any points with the rebels either.

I'll come up with something better. Something meaningful. Something less heartbreaking than Hawke slamming a knife home in her mother’s chest to end her suffering quickly before her mismatched body had time to realize how grotesque it was. Something better.

Piece of cake.

 

* * *

 

_A letter delivered by a very clumsy bird_

 

Varric,

Now I finally understand that comment Cassandra made. You made me look way too good during that duel, how was I ever going to live up to that? You didn't even mention the three months bed rest I had to endure. Or the four months after that when I fought off that infection. I puked on your shoes and you didn't take the opportunity to humiliate me in your book? It's like I don't even _know_ you.

And Isabella was surprised I wasn't mad at her for not being in Kirkwall during my recovery. Not like I would have noticed. That year passed me by too quickly.

Heard about the next thing you guys are planning.

Don't die.

Hawke

 

_Attached to the letter is a special rune stone, fit for a weapon_

 

* * *

 

_Sloppy notes written into the third act of “The Tale of the Champion”_

 

I hate Meredith.

 

Orsino was a liar and certainly didn’t turn into a giant abomination what the fuck.

 

Could have died then, could die now.

 

* * *

 

_A note slipped under a door in the Kirkwall Alienage_

 

My dear friend,

I am quite ecstatic to hear you are well, especially considering that everyone believed you to be dead. Our mutual friend told my love and I all about your tragic fate.

I hope you don't mind that I went ahead and delivered the letter you asked me to upon your passing. Had I known you would return, I would have of course refrained from doing so. Surely it wasn't all too sensitive information, yes?

Let us meet again soon, so you can tell me all about your adventure.

 

* * *

 

_A discarded napkin, found on the floor of the Hanged Man_

 

He read it and never replied. That’s what I wanted, right? Fuck. That’s why I wanted to be dead when he got it- so I didn’t have to think about the consequences. But there are none, so there are none to think about right?  Fuck, fuck, fuck. I’m not drunk enough for this. Why did Zevran have to tell me? I was happy to live in denial of Varric ever getting that fucking letter. Should have burned it. He’ll write about a sad lonely woman with eyes “the colour of topaz” in his next book and I want to _die_.

 

* * *

 

_A letter, wax seal broken, delivered personally by a pirate_

 

Hawke,

Apologies for taking so long to reply. Not to your last letter, that is, but the other one. I’m sure you know which.

As you once did, I leave the delivery of this letter to the whim of fate and the messenger so I can’t be sure when this will reach you. (Knowing the messenger, probably as soon as she has finished reading it - Hello, Isabella) However, there is something big looming at the horizon, so it felt best to write this all now before I won’t get the chance to later.

I wasn’t sure how to respond to your letter or if I even should, given you obviously planned on not being alive to receive any reaction. I was content to leave it be, as what it was meant to be. Your last words that you didn’t want to leave unsaid but also didn’t wish for me to know while you were still around.

Your reasoning was valid, of course. For the longest time, Bianca has and always will be an important part of my life and had you told me years ago in Kirkwall, I would not be giving you the answer I am giving you today.

I admit I might have made her into something too important. A convenient excuse. Something comfortable. Both Bianca and I know of each other’s feelings, everyone else knows about them, there was nothing uncertain between us. Somewhere I used to believe that one day all keeping us apart would also reunite us once and for all. We met again recently and I had to realize that we’ve both moved on from that idea. There will always be something there, old history has the annoying habit of sticking to you like scars, but that is all it is now. Old history.

When she was here, I was glad to see her, especially without her family looming over me with their pitchforks sharpened, but my most prominent thought was “I wish Hawke were here”. I wanted you to meet her, this woman that has been so important all my life and tell you all about our story. I wanted you there when she dragged me to an adventure and it turned out she had royally screwed up. I wanted most to have to next to me in the thick of it.

After that revelation and your letter, I kept noticing that I always wanted you around. Not just in battle. At the Winter Palace I thought of how much cheese you would eat and how you would steal any that you didn’t, or what clever jokes you would tell about someone’s dress. How comfortable you would have felt in the Arbor Wilds among the trees, much more so than you ever felt in any city. How much you would have wanted to see the dragon the Inquisitor tamed or what you reaction to Mythal would have been.

It became a recurring theme, that the person I always want right next to me no matter what or where or how, is you.

Most people would call that feeling love. And while I hate to plagiarize, so would I.

Read these words, knowing I mean every carefully chosen word, know I wrote about seven drafts of this just to get to tone right, know that my hands are sweating because I am nervous how you will react even though you bared your heart first.

Read this, knowing I love you and only you. No matter what.

I don’t know what the future will bring, it has always been so blighted unpredictable, but if we meet once more, I would that we will not part again.

Yours,

Varric

 

* * *

 

_“All this Shit is Weird” by Varric Tethras 9:44 Dragon, excerpt of the final chapter_

 

The Inquisitor remained with their love and when I returned home to Kirkwall, so did I.

 

* * *

 

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to my wonderful beta and my two spouses for helping me fine tuning


End file.
